Daddy's Girl
by Master's Duchess
Summary: When computer programmer, Emma Beaumont, moved into the apartment across from him, Riley knew he was head over heels in love. What he didn't know was who her father was. Follows plot of National Treasure movies.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N**: So, for anyone who reads my other stories, you know I haven't been updating for a few weeks, and this is part of the reason why. I will be updating those stories soon, but it'll take a couple of weeks to get them written and edited. For now, here's the first part of my _National Treasure_ story, _Daddy's Girl_. I will probably update it more frequently than my other stories because it will follow the events of the movies, which makes it easier to write. Since I absolutely adore Riley Poole, it will probably be 90% unabashed fluff. I'm rating it Teen just in case, but I doubt it will live up to that rating. Anyways, let me know if you like it so far, reviews are very very much appreciated.

* * *

_Present time._

Riley Poole was tired.

No, tired didn't even begin to cover the intense exhaustion he currently felt as a result of yet another late night spent at his computer, trying to hunt down the imbecile who was hacking into government agencies using _his_ IP address. Sure, he should have gone to the police by now, but he was supposed to be one of the top computer geniuses of his generation. It would be an embarrassment to admit that he couldn't track down the culprit.

He sat up and rubbed his eyes, wincing at the time on the digital clock next to his bed. _Two p.m._

Deciding he had better get out of bed and face another uneventful Sunday afternoon, Riley swung his legs over the side of the bed and groaned as his bare feet came into contact with the cold floor. It was the middle of autumn and his old apartment was already becoming cold. He would have to find money somehow to pay for heating oil soon.

_Like I could ever afford that_, he thought and snorted at the concept of him having any spare money at all. His student loans were practically killing him.

From outside of the closed-curtained window, there was a loud, clattering noise that grabbed his attention. Checking that he was fully clothed, Riley parted the curtains slightly to see what the noise was about. Probably the neighborhood children again. Or a dog. Or nothing; he could be going crazy after all. That wouldn't surprise him one bit, if he was being completely honest with himself.

To his great surprise, the noise was none of the above. Instead, what he saw was a young woman, about his age, fussing over three cardboard boxes that had opened up and spilled their contents on the sidewalk right outside of his apartment building. She swore and bent down, frantically grabbing up the random articles of clothing from the ground before standing up and continuing her journey once more.

His breath caught in his throat. Was she walking his way? Riley shut the curtains immediately and stepped away upon realizing that she was, in fact, approaching his building. He had a ground floor apartment. He couldn't risk _another_ girl thinking he was weird.

Giving in to another look out the window, he saw that she was closer. Riley dashed to his nightstand and grabbed his glasses, dashing back to the window to get a better look at her.

The woman was most definitely his age and was a good few inches shorter than him. She was quite thin- not skinny thin- but more like athletically-toned thin. She had curled light brown hair that went an inch or so past her chest that was pulled into a pretty half-up style. Her high cheek bones and pretty alabaster skin drew his eyes to her face, while her pouty pink lips and dark brown eyes made sure his attention remained there.

She was, without a doubt, the prettiest girl he had seen in _years_. And the part that was the kicker was that he bet she would never notice his existence. Even though she appeared to be moving in to his apartment building, Riley would never be a glimmer in her pretty eyes or a name rolling off her tongue.

But as luck, _Riley's_ luck, would have it, the girl's eyes rose from the sidewalk and she looked directly at Riley, who was still, unfortunately for him, peering at her, mouth agape, from behind the curtained window on the ground floor of the apartment building.

_Oh my God,_ Riley screamed in his head, immediately letting go of the curtain and backing away from the window in embarrassment. That could _not_ have just happened to him. He didn't even know who she was, and still he had managed to make an ass of himself already. He figured it was a new record.

A braver man would have changed out of his plaid pajama bottoms and college t-shirt to introduce himself to the girl, but Riley chose to pad into the kitchen and pour himself a bowl of comfort cereal. He tried not to think of what had happened, so he flicked on the television and flopped across the couch.

He had finished half of the bowl and only thought about how he embarrassed himself minutes prior about three times, when there was a dainty knock on his door.

Riley felt his face pale in horror and his heart begin to race. He just _knew _that if the girl was at the door, his throat would tighten and he wouldn't be able to speak. He was _terrible_ at speaking to pretty girls.

"Excuse me?" a small voice called from outside his apartment. "I'm sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if you would be able to help me unlock my door? I can't figure out how to use these keys in the right order."

Now, he _had_ to open the door. "Y-yeah, one minute," he called back, stuttering slightly as he practically fell off the couch when the blanket on top of him got tangled with his legs. "Coming."

With the pretty girl waiting for him in the hallway, Riley knew he had no time to change into something more presentable. Pajamas, a t-shirt, and glasses would have to be it.

Deciding it was better to get the humiliation over during the show's commercial break, Riley swung the door open hastily, a smile on his face that he desperately hoped didn't appear as unhinged as he thought it would.

The girl smiled brightly at him and thrust her hand out to shake his. "Hi, I am so sorry to disturb you," she gushed, retracting her hand after an awkwardly-limp shake on Riley's part.

Riley waved her apology off and took her keys, walking across the hall to her door to deal with the locks. Their landlord was a dubious man. "Don't worry about it."

"I'm Emma, by the way."

Riley fumbled with the keys and tried not to let on that he never got it right on the first time. "I'm Riley."

"I know," Emma grinned, watching him try to open the door with amusement. When Riley shot her an alarmed look, Emma laughed and pointed to the call box at the entrance. "I saw your name. Riley Poole."

Upon making an ass of himself once more, Riley faced the door to continue on to the second lock. "Right."

As he struggled to open the door, Emma pushed some of the boxes lining the hallway closer to her door to let some people pass. "Riley, this is a strange question, but do you think I could borrow a newspaper for a few hours?"

Riley quirked an eyebrow in her direction. "Um, sure. Why?"

There was a click and the door opened. Emma picked up a few boxes and walked inside. "Here, let me help you," Riley offered, taking a few more boxes inside of the small apartment.

Emma places her boxes on the table in the center of the room. "I need to find a job soon," she explained. "Just put them wherever, I don't know just yet."

Riley did as he was told. "What sort of job were you thinking of?"

She didn't seem to hear him as she was unpacking one of the boxes across the room, her back to him, so he repeated the question again.

"Computers," Emma grinned, moving aside to reveal a top-of-the-line programming laptop. Riley's jaw dropped open indecorously.

"Computers?" Riley stuttered. There was no way he heard her right.

Emma laughed as she walked into the hall to retrieve more boxes. When she came back in, Riley was still standing in the same place, with the same awestruck look on his face. "Yes, Riley, computers."

Riley leaned against the wall to balance himself out while thoughts raced through his mind. "You program. Computers."

She cocked her head to the side at his strange behavior. "Yes, Riley," she said slowly once more, "I program computers. And I need a job. Programming computers."

"Marry me," Riley blurted out dreamily, eyes widening comically once he realized what he said.

"Excuse me?" Emma laughed.

"Sorry, I said, 'I have a job for you,'" Riley said hastily, hoping she believed him. Emma was expectantly quiet, so he continued. "As luck would have it, I happen to work with computers and they're always looking for more people."

Emma grinned and kissed him on the cheek. "That sounds lovely, thank you, Riley."

* * *

_Twelve hours ago._

_"Agent Sadusky, since it is your first day, why don't you fill the team in on the suspect?" Agent Peter Sadusky grinned proudly at the young agent in front of him._

_Emma Sadusky pushed her swivel chair away from the large, glass table and stood up, her hands shaking slightly from first-day at the job jitters. "The suspect's name is Riley Christopher Poole, age twenty-five, born and raised in D.C.," she said, trying to appear assertive by looking the more-experienced agents in the eyes._

_"Mr. Poole graduated top of his class at MIT with a degree in Computer Science and Engineering, before going on to earn additional degrees in Atmospheric Chemistry, Environmental Engineering, and Mathematics," Emma continued, reading from the manila folder of information she compiled the night before on the suspect. "He currently works for a private security firm contracted by the Environmental Protection Agency and the Federal Emergency Management Agency, as well as does side work for both of those agencies making geological and meteorological prediction model computer programs. "_

_Peter Sadusky cleared his throat. "Thank you, Agent Sadusky," he said, motioning for Emma to be seated. Once she was, he addressed his team. "As mentioned briefly in the report I gave you all this morning, Mr. Poole is suspected of hacking into both the EPA and FEMA. We currently have no motive or concrete evidence, which is why I am sending in an agent to get close to him- to figure out what exactly he is doing with the hacking and how best we can neutralize the suspect without him leaking sensitive information. We don't need another whistle-blower."_

_Agent Michaels stood up. "Sir, I would like to personally volunteer for the mission."_

_Agent Sadusky raised his eyebrows and his mouth twisted into an amused smirk. "Alright, and how do you plan on gaining Mr. Poole's confidence?"_

_"Maybe he likes to go to the bar?" Agent Michaels suggested, shrugging his shoulders. "He is a guy, after all. We could bond over beer, sports, and hot chicks."_

_Agent Emma Sadusky stood up. "Sir, after profiling the suspect, I do not think Agent Michaels's plan of action will succeed."_

_"I share your opinion," Peter Sadusky mentioned. "Tell Agent Michaels why his plan will not work."_

_She hated the looks the other agents were giving her. Sure, it was her first day and her father was her boss, but Emma knew she was good at what she was trained to do. "Riley Poole has four degrees, three of which are Master's degrees, and the other one is a Doctorate. He spends his free time hacking two of the most dull governmental agencies. He has no known associates or friends. His grandmother raised him. Mr. Poole is not the type of man to go to bars, drink beer, watch or enjoy sports, or chat about 'hot chicks'."_

_"Exactly," Peter said. "Michaels, sit down."_

_Michaels narrowed his eyes at Emma, but she ignored him._

_Peter surveyed the agents, listing pros and cons of each agent in his head, trying to figure out the right one for the job. After a quick survey, he realized his daughter was the only one who could get close to Poole believably._

_"Agent Sadusky is the only agent on the team who is right for this mission, which is why I am choosing her," he decided finally. "She is a female one year younger than the suspect and she has a background in computer science. She is the perfect fit, therefore, if I hear one word from anyone of you about my decision being based off the fact that she is my daughter, I will personally make sure to transfer you to pushing paper at the CIA. Is that understood?"_

_The agents all nodded, each one secretly scared of their boss._


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Thank you to everyone who's reviewed, favorited/followed, or read! Sorry that it's been such a while since I've updated anything. I've been having writer's block for a while now, but I found motivation to update this story today. I will continue to update all my stories, but this is the one that'll be updated the fastest, simply because I absolutely adore Riley.

* * *

Ian Howe leaned back into his supple leather chair, kicked his feet up onto the glass-top coffee table in front of him, and straightened out the magazine in his hands with a flick of his wrists. It was a particularly relaxing mid-autumn afternoon where he found himself with a spare few hours before he was engaged to attend another dreary charity function on behalf of his late father.

His only solace during the function would be thoughts of whatever crazy conspiracy theories he read about in the latest edition of _Conspiracy Weekly_. His elder sister made fun of him relentlessly for choosing that magazine over something serious like _Time_ or _Business Insider,_ but Ian refused to give up his little slice of crazy American conspiracy theories.

As per usual, he briefly skimmed through the articles claiming to have found proof of the existence of the Ark of the Covenant, the articles claiming that aliens built the Parthenon and the pyramids, and the articles claiming that the moon landing was faked by the government to win the arms race. While those articles usually were the most entertaining on account of the crazy loons who wrote them, Ian was mostly interested in the articles that held just the slightest bit of desperation. Desperation to be believed mixed with the promise of treasure was Ian's favorite type of article.

And as fate would have it that one autumn afternoon, desperation mixed with promise was just what Ian Howe found in the pages of _Conspiracy Weekly_. He had heard of the author and the author's family before, practically everyone in the conspiracy theory/ treasure hunting worlds has. The author had information, was desperate for monetary assistance, and promised the greatest treasure mankind had ever or will ever see.

Without a moment's hesitation, Ian whipped out his mobile and dialed the telephone number at the bottom of the article.

"Hello, this is Ian Howe," he greeted confidently, "is this Ben Gates?"

* * *

Women had never scared Riley Poole before. If he was being completely honest with himself, the women he met in college and after college, while they had been nice to admire from afar, had never peaked his interest for more than a few days at most. And the times when he had to come into contact with them, Riley preferred to say as little as possible, shying away from too much bonding to occur. His reasoning for this anti-social behavior was that he was afraid of being rejected.

As a smart, sarcastic, and obviously not athletically-inclined in the slightest, Riley had always been at the bottom of the metaphorical totem pole that was any school's social scene. While he never fit in with the popular children, for obvious reasons, he also never fit in with the children who were picked on as well. One afternoon, when he was fourteen years old, his grandmother affectionately told him that it was probably due to his deprecating sarcasm. In response he shrugged his shoulders and replied that he didn't want to be friends with stupid kids, anyways.

So, while Riley preferred to keep to himself and avoid all contact with people, especially women, he still deep-down inside craved the acceptance he only ever received from his grandmother. In high school, it was this craving for acceptance that led him to pursue brief romantic interests, but all that ever resulted was rejection. And the only way he was able to get over the rejection was to fall back on his sarcasm.

Women may come and go, but his sarcastic quips would stay with him forever. And that was all he needed... at least, until Emma walked into his life.

The day after she moved in, Riley set up an interview for her with his boss. Two days after she moved in, his boss called him to inform him that not only would he be hiring Emma, he would be placing her under Riley's direct supervision while she completed her trial period.

One week after she moved in, Riley found himself staying up late, replaying every moment when he stole a glance at her across their two-person cubicle in the corner of the office, every moment when his sarcasm managed to make her laugh, every moment when he craved nothing more than the touch of her skin, the warmth of her breath on his lips.

His coding was becoming more distracted, and it was hard for him not to notice all of the stupid mistakes he was making in his programs. Hell, it was only the day before that Emma nervously brought it to his attention that his program that he wanted her to check kept crashing on account of a loop that wouldn't terminate. That was a rookie mistake, and it embarrassed him that they both knew it.

He had expected her to laugh at him, at how stupid he was to have made such an error in his coding, but she didn't. Emma smiled sympathetically at him and inquired after his sleep. Riley tried at laugh it off, but she told him that if he needed help with anything, all he had to do was walk across the hall to her apartment and ask for it.

It was this gesture of kindness that encouraged Riley enough to believe that there was a slim sliver of a chance that he could win her over. And this slim sliver of a chance encouraged Riley to quietly walk over to her computer and place a USB drive on her desk while she was on her coffee break. Pushing his desk chair under his desk, Riley grabbed his hastily-packed lunch and walked towards the office exit.

At the exact moment he went to push the door open, Emma pulled on it from the other side. They stood there face to face and smiled at one another. "Hey, I was just about to ask if you had eaten lunch yet," Emma explained quickly, a slight blush creeping up on her cheeks which Riley attributed to the autumn sunshine outside.

He raised his bag. "I'm actually about to eat now."

Emma's eyes blinked quickly before lowering to the ground slightly. "Oh, okay."

Riley could see the dejection on her place clearly, and he felt guilty for causing it. He knew that look wouldn't remain on her face for too long, though. "There's a USB drive on your desk with a program that I'd like you to look over before you take lunch. Let me know how you find it to run when I get back."

Emma nodded briskly, a faraway look in her gaze. "Of course. "

* * *

As she watched Riley exit the office, Emma knew she was in deep trouble. It was only one week after her father assigned her to the task of spying on Riley Poole, and she already was doubting her ability to carry out the mission on account of her growing feelings for him.

Emma sat down in the now-empty cubicle and inserted the USB into her computer. She had known him for one week- not enough time to fall for the young man, but certainly enough time for her to develop a crush of sorts on him. Part of her felt silly over the way her heart sped up every time he addressed her at work, but another part of her knew she loved every moment of it.

Even though they lived in apartments across from each other, she only encountered him in the office. Riley didn't care enough to arrive at the office on time, knowing that the company needed him too much to let him go over his tardiness, and Riley always disappeared after work, so that Emma could never offer to walk home with him, as she so much wanted to do.

She told herself that spending time with him was purely about doing the best she could for the Bureau, but she knew that was a downright lie. She was genuinely intrigued and interested in Riley Poole and during moments when she was alone, thoughts of the nerdy programmer ran through her mind.

Tapping her pen on the desk, she perused the program's coding, searching for errors. Satisfied that there were none, Emma ran the program. While she normally would have paid attention to what the program was supposed to do while she searched for errors, Emma felt that to do so with Riley's programs would be an invasion of his privacy. She preferred to check the codes and then run the program for any run-time errors that she might have missed.

The last program she ran had crashed her computer. The program she was currently running did not. No, what it did surprised her more so than finding out she was to work a big case on her first day of work.

_Are you free tonight?_

Emma blinked at the words that came up on her screen, which were followed with the option to click on a _Yes _or a _No_. Emma clicked on the _Yes _hastily.

The screen went black for a moment, the words having disappeared, before new words took their place. _Would you like to see the city with me?_

Excitedly, she clicked the _Yes_ once more. _I'll meet you in front of our apartment building at 6 pm._

Her eyes widened as she realized that was only in a couple of hours.

* * *

"So, to conclude, that is why I strongly believe that the _Charlotte_ will be found beneath ice in the arctic."

Ian mused over the massive amount of information presented to him. He leaned back into his chair and intertwined his fingers together pensively. "Assuming your theory is correct, and also assuming that I am willing to fund you, what exactly would it be that your require, Mr. Gates?"

Ben Gates leaned back into his chair as well and thought for a moment. "At least three strong men, three to four ice vehicles, including appropriate equipment, anywhere from five to six million dollars to fund everything, and one computer simulation expert to crunch all of the relevant data."

Ian nodded. "Fair enough, Gates, fair enough. Consider it yours."

"Thank you," Ben replied with a relieved grin. "I suppose the next order of business would be to hire a computer programmer crazy enough to want to leave their job to help us find treasure."

"Tall task," Ian agreed. "Fortunately, my team have already secured a very capable nerd for the mission."

Ben raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Already? You've only just agreed to help."

"To be honest, we've been targeting this guy for quite some time."

"How do you know he will agree to work with us?"

Ian shrugged his shoulders. "I have compromising information on him that he would hate to have get into the wrong hands."

Ben looked at him hesitantly. "I don't want to hire criminals."

Ian chuckled. "Relax, Gates, he's not a criminal. He's just being blackmailed, there's a difference, you know." Ben continued to look suspicious at this revelation. "Look," Ian continued, "you said it yourself we need the best person for the job and the person has to be crazy enough to go along with us."

"But blackmail?"

"Once everything is over, I'll compensate him for his troubles along with whatever comes from the treasure."

Ben thought it over, wondering if he was making the best decision to go along with Ian's plan. "Alright. Let's find him."

* * *

"You know, I never took you for the type to ask a girl out," Emma teased Riley as they ambled through the Grove of State Trees in the U.S. National Arboretum.

Riley snorted and glanced at her with amusement. "What are you talking about? I didn't ask you out," he clarified, instantly regretting his poor choice of words when Emma's face faltered for a brief second.

"Oh, sorry," she stammered blushing wildly, "I misread it then."

_Smooth, Riley_.Riley nearly face-palmed at his stupidity and stopped walking, taking Emma's arm to stop her as well. "You didn't, I'm sorry," he apologized.

"But you just said-"

Riley cut her off, "Forget what I just said."

She looked at him oddly and then laughed. "You're strange, you know that, don't you, Riley?"

"You know, that's actually the first time anyone has ever told me that," Riley drawled sarcastically.

Emma laughed once more and began walking through the trees once more. "So, what is a man with multiple degrees in multiple subjects doing in a cubicle at a nameless computer company?" Emma asked.

Riley halted and looked at her with confusion; Emma realized Riley had never told her that. She had learned that from his FBI case file. "How do you know that?" he asked suspiciously, backing away from her.

"The boss told me in my interview," Emma hastily said, hoping he wouldn't ask their boss about it. "I asked about you and he was hesitant to tell me anything. Said I should ask you myself, but I was insistent. He made me swear I wouldn't tell you that he told me everything."

Riley stared at her. "Why did you ask the boss about me in _your_ interview?"

Emma blushed, not needing to lie to this question. "It would seem that I was interested in the guy living across the hall from my apartment."

Riley smirked and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "No need to blush, Emma," he chuckled, "I can't help it that I am this irresistible."

Emma laughed, relieved that the line of questioning was over and they were back into the comfortable, teasing moods that they had been in since they met up for the tour after work. "You might be sarcastic about it, but I'm not," Emma teased, "you are quite the catch, Riley Poole."

Riley's steps faltered and he stumbled over a raised patch of grass, making Emma laugh even louder. "On that note, should we return home? It's getting dark."

Emma agreed and they hired a cab upon leaving the arboretum. Minutes later, they stood in the hallway between their apartments. "Thank you for tonight, Riley," Emma said quietly, beaming up at hm.

Riley couldn't help but to beam back down at her. "It was my pleasure," he replied. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

Emma nodded and let herself into her apartment, closing the door behind her and squealing once she was certain Riley wouldn't be able to hear her.

Satisfied that she had such a good night, Emma flipped on the apartment lights, freezing in terror as she saw two large, threatening men standing in the middle of her living room.

Before she could scream or run for help, one of the men put a hand over her mouth and the other man forced her down onto a chair and bound her with ropes. "Stay here," he grunted, leaving the apartment. From the crack of the open door, Emma watched as the man knocked on Riley's door.

She panicked upon seeing Riley open the door, only to be grabbed by the man and dragged into her apartment. "Emma?" Riley gasped in horror at her bound to the chair.

"Mr. Poole, sit down and shut up," the man commanded. Riley looked between the two men and decided that he stood no chance against them. He sat down silently. "If you would like to see her unharmed, you will comply with everything I tell you, understand?"

Riley nodded. Normally, his sarcasm would've emerged by now, but he couldn't risk Emma's safety for the satisfaction of a few well-placed quips.

"Good," the blond man said, running a hand down Emma's cheek. She whimpered and jerked her head away from his touch. The man rolled his eyes and looked at Riley. "I need your full cooperation for a project, Mr. Poole. Refuse to help, and I will personally make sure she suffers for your insubordination."

"What do you need me to do?"

"Good," the man said. "I need you to make a series of computer programs, of a nature I will later disclose, as well as accompany myself and my companions on our project until our work is completed."

"I'll do it," Riley said slowly, "but how do I know she won't be harmed while I am away?"

The blond man shrugged. "See? You can't promise me that your men will leave her alone, can you?" Riley retorted. "I will help you, but under one condition."

Both men laughed. "You're in no position to have conditions, Poole."

"I will help you only if she stays by my side the entire time," Riley demanded, his glare never wavering from the blond man.

"What does the lady say to this?"

Emma nodded her head furiously, still scared out of her wits. She was slightly ashamed of her terror, full knowing an experienced agent wouldn't react in such a pathetic manner.

The man was satisfied. "Good. It's settled then. We'll be in contact with you two closer to when we need you."

"You're going to let us go now?" Riley clarified, looking between the men and Emma.

"Yes," the man replied. "But one last thing. If either of you tell anyone about this, neither of you will survive to make the same mistake again."

The men left, slamming the door behind them. Riley rushed over to Emma's side to pull the ropes away from her. He knelt by her side and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her to him. She leaned against him in shock. "Shhh, it's going to be alright," Riley whispered, making Emma realize tears were escaping from her eyes.

"Riley, what are we going to do? We have to tell someone."

Riley pulled back and searched her eyes. "We're going to do whatever they ask us to do."

"We should tell someone."

Riley shook his head and pulled her back against his chest, beginning to run his fingers through her hair. "I can't risk anything happening to you, so we can't do that. Please, just trust me and we'll be fine."

"Do you promise, Riley Poole?"

"I promise. We'll do what they want and then we'll be alright. I'll keep you safe, I promise."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **I wasn't expecting to update this story so quickly, but I guess I surprised myself with it. I realized I made you all wait over a month for the next chapter (I don't even want to get started on how long it's been since I've updated my other stories), so I'm sorry! As always, thank you to the two reviewers, I love that you like the story! Also, thanks to everyone who's favorited, followed, and read!

* * *

_"I promise. We'll do what they want and then we'll be alright. I'll keep you safe, I promise__."_

Emma replayed Riley's words through her mind as she numbly cleaned up the mess that the two intruders had left of her new apartment. Riley had left to return to his apartment a few minutes ago. He had wanted to stay and help her, but she insisted that she needed to be alone to think through everything that happened. He was reluctant, but eventually she persuaded him that she would be okay.

Her father would be furious if he found out what had transpired. She knew he would immediately take her off the mission if he had any inkling that two unidentified men broke into her apartment, threatened her, and then roped her into what was most likely an illegal scheme. Every inch of her sanity screamed at her to call him and tell him what occurred, but she found she couldn't bring herself to dial his number into her phone. She just couldn't leave Riley to deal with the men and their threats by himself.

True, she was the one who panicked and buckled under pressure, but Emma chalked that up as a one time fluke. Next time, she would be prepared.

Looking around her apartment, Emma sighed when her eyes landed on the front door with a broken lock from when the men entered while she was out with Riley. Normally, she would've noticed something such as a broken lock on her front door, but she had to admit that her mind was on other things last night.

_Well, _she thought, _not other things. Riley_.

Riley.

He promised to keep her safe and how did she thank him?

That's right, she all but threw him out of her apartment. She ran a hand over her face in frustration, a habit she picked up from her father over the years.

The intruders threatened both her and Riley, and the only one Riley was concerned for was her.

And she unceremoniously threw him out of her apartment.

Hastily changing into a pair of pajama pants, a camisole, and a loose cardigan, Emma left her apartment, deciding to follow her instincts instead of her training.

Two steps forward and three clipped knocks on a door later, Riley's head peaked into the hallway from behind a cautiously cracked-open door. Upon seeing her, Riley opened the door further. "Is everything alright?"

Emma wrapped her arms around her body and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "I think my lock is broken, and I don't really feel safe staying at my place tonight..." she trailed off uncomfortably.

Riley's eyes widened and he peaked at his apartment behind him. She had never been inside of his apartment, and he was really hoping she never would be. It was a mess. Even though he was a computer genius, for some reason he could never figure out how to keep up an apartment. "Uh, it's sort of a mess," he stuttered nervously, despite the fact that he was holding her in his arms only minutes ago as she cried.

Emma chuckled at his reaction, knowing the reason for it. "Riley, I've seen your desk at work. It doesn't scare me... too much."

Riley groaned and stepped aside. "Don't say I didn't warn you," he muttered, ushering into his apartment and locking the door behind her.

Emma stopped and looked around the sparsely furnished apartment around her. It wasn't too bad of a mess, just the odd unwashed dish placed here and there, clothing strewn all over the floor, and many unpacked boxes lined the walls. "Did you just move in?" she asked, referring to the boxes.

"Er- no," Riley replied as he hurriedly gathered up his clothing from the living room floor. "I just haven't found time to unpack yet."

Raising an eyebrow, Emma surveyed the pile of opened DVD cases, their contents all over the coffee table in front of the television resting upon a moving box. "I'd say you had plenty of time, judging from your DVD collection," she teased, laughing at the way his neck reddened with mortification.

"I'll get to it eventually," he said under his breath, tossing the clothing into the clothes basket. He realized this was the first time he had ever put the basket to use. "Um, so, I can make up the bed for you, if you'd like," he offered timidly.

"That's alright, I'm perfectly fine on the couch," Emma replied, sitting onto the couch. She pushed aside a pile of comic books to make room for her feet.

Riley stood in the doorway of his bedroom uncertainly. "You can't sleep on the couch."

Emma cocked an eyebrow and smirked at him. "And why not?"

"It's not proper to have your guest stay on the couch," Riley countered, looking away from her smug smile.

"Alright then," Emma laughed, "where would you have your guest stay?"

"The bed, of course."

"The bed," Emma repeated slowly, enjoying the way Riley was clearly uncomfortable with the conversation.

He swallowed audibly and nodded, still keeping his eyes on anything but her. "Yep."

"You want me to sleep on your bed," Emma repeated, grinning. "Now _that's_ improper, isn't it, Riley?"

His eyes widened comically as he realized what it sounded like. "No- no, that's not what I meant!"

"You like to move quickly, don't you, Riley?" she teased, making him blush further. As he began zipping and unzipping his hoody nervously, Emma stood up and walked over to him, placing a hand upon his to stop the nervous zipping. "Calm down, I'm only playing with you, Riley."

Riley swallowed again and finally mustered up the courage to look her in the eyes. "Having fun mocking me, Miss Beaumont?" he asked, his tone laced with sarcasm.

She couldn't make out the emotions in his blue eyes, but something told her to be careful with how she chose her next words. One wrong word and she could really do some damage. "I'm not mocking you, Mister Poole," she replied simply.

"We both know there's no way in _Hell_ you're flirting with me," Riley continued, and Emma finally realized he must have been rejected multiple times in the past. She had to tread lightly.

"If that's what you'd like to think, then I'm not flirting with you... I'm merely being extra nice to someone I find extra attractive."

Riley snorted at her response. "Clever," he admitted, "untrue, but clever nonetheless." He walked into the bedroom and began stripping the bed of the blankets. "Come on, let's put new sheets on the bed."

Emma looked at the bedsheets skeptically. "Riley, I just saw you in the laundromat washing these exact sheets two days ago. Why on Earth are you changing them again?"

Riley pulled back and looked at her with confusion. "So you can have sheets that smell fresh like laundry soap instead of two-day old ones that smell like your neighbor?"

Emma rolled her eyes and jumped onto his bed, landing on her back. She smiled up at him. "Riley, it's fine. I happen to think you smell good."

He furrowed his eyebrows. "You are incredibly perplexing, you know that, don't you?"

"What makes you say that?" she laughed, motioning for him to join her on the bed.

He remained in place, however, much to her dismay. "Well for one, you're laying on my bed."

"Astute observation, Poole."

Riley rolled his eyes and ignored her comment. "Two, you can't deny you're attractive."

Emma smirked once more. "So I don't see what's so perplexing about me."

He threw his hands up in the air. "What's perplexing is that you're attractive and you're laying on my bed!" he said quickly, his voice raising to a higher, more frantic pitch.

"You're attractive and you lay on your bed, yet you don't have a problem with that."

"I'm not attractive!" Riley complained. "I'm witty, sarcastic, and unusually smart, but I. Am. Not. Attractive."

Emma sat up and grabbed onto his arm, pulling him down next to her. He shifted away from her a few inches. Emma rolled onto her side to face him. "You're right, you're not attractive."

Riley sighed. "See? I told you."

"Hey- stop cutting me off, Riley Poole," she commanded. "Anyway, as I was saying," she continued, "you're not attractive. You're sexy."

Riley let out a loud laugh. Emma stared at him. "What?" she asked.

Riley turned his head to look at her strangely. "You're hilarious."

"No, I mean it, Riley!" Emma insisted, making Riley laugh even more. "Stop laughing! It's so true!"

"It's not," Riley countered. "I see my face every single day, and after careful consideration, I can tell you there is nothing about _this_," he motioned to his face, "that is _sexy_."

"Yes, there really is."

Riley turned his body to face hers. "Prove it."

"Fine," Emma muttered. "You have a strong masculine jaw and pillowy lips that you hide behind your stupid goatee. You have gorgeous icy blue eyes that you hide behind large glasses and too-long hair. And you have alluring body that for some reason you hide under baggy clothing that looks like you've had since you were fourteen."

"You're just saying that," Riley finally replied quietly, making Emma chuckle.

"I'm just saying that to what, get in your bed?" she motioned around them, "I'm already here, Riley."

"I've never been attractive, and that's just the way it is," Riley murmured. "Once you see that, the easier everything will be for us both."

"I promise that when we're through with whatever the hell that was earlier, I will make sure you see yourself the same way I see you."

"Not possible."

"Definitely possible, Poole. Now, I'm tired. It's been a long day and I just want to sleep. Either your sexy body can stay here or the couch. It's up to you."

Riley finally allowed himself to let out the breath he didn't know he was holding and laughed. "Actually, it's up to you."

"Fine," Emma pouted. "Why don't you turn off the lights and you can join me here. It's your house, I'm not going to make you sleep on the couch."

Riley chuckled and got out of bed to shut the room lights off. He stood at the foot of the bed hesitantly. "What's the matter, Riley?" Emma groaned, pulling the blankets over her body and collapsing her head onto a pillow.

"You're um, on my side of the bed?"

Emma opened one eye to look at him sleepily. "You're going to complain about your side of the bed when there's a girl in it?" Riley began to stutter and she cut him off. "Riley, if you have that much of a problem, take it from me yourself. If not, sleep on the other side of the bed tonight."

"I always sleep next to the window."

"Deal with it or take it from me. Either way, stop talking, it's late and I like the quiet."

Emma smirked to herself as she heard Riley sigh and felt the bed sink down under his weight. The blankets rustled as he pulled them over himself. "I hate this side of the bed," he muttered darkly.

"Do something about it then, otherwise shut up," Emma replied teasingly knowing he wouldn't do anything about it. He was many things, but he definitely was not assertive enough to reclaim his side of the bed, especially when a girl was there.

"Maybe I will."

"I know you won't."

Riley narrowed his eyes at the back of her head in the dark. She was so infuriating. That was _his_ side of the bed. The absurdity of the night was finally catching up with him as he kept imagining himself as a bolder man reclaiming his side of the bed, but he knew she was right. He wouldn't take it from her. Everyone would've said the same thing had they the opportunity.

So perhaps that's why he decided he had to reclaim what was his. If she was fine sleeping on the couch, she'd be fine sleeping on the other side of the bed.

"You don't know me, Emma."

"I know you're so nervous that I'm in your bed that you forgot to change out of your clothes before getting into bed," Emma scoffed, her eyes remaining closed. Her voice was breathier than normal, telling him she was close to falling asleep.

He, on the other hand, was wide awake. "Shit," he cursed under his breath, throwing the blankets off of him as he jumped out of bed, grabbed a pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt and went into the bathroom to change.

Riley rested his palms against the cold sink and stared at his reflection in the mirror, trying to see what Emma found so attractive about him. Years of rejection and self-deprecating humor prevented him from believing her, however. He ran his hand through the rough hairs of his goatee and contemplated shaving it, but thought against it. The last time he had shaved this late at night, he had managed to nick his face multiple times.

That just wouldn't do tonight, especially with a _female_ in his presence.

In his bed.

_No_, he thought, _on his side of the bed_.

Riley sighed and knew he wouldn't be able to sleep on the wrong side of the bed. He hated sleeping on the side of the bed closest to the door, and tonight he definitely needed his sleep. He had a lot of work to do in the morning at work that he had been putting off all week.

Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, he exited the bathroom, padded silently across his bedroom and stood over Emma's almost-asleep form on _his_ side of the bed.

Emma cocked an eyebrow but didn't open her eyes. She didn't have to to know he was standing over her. "Riley, I know you're there," she muttered tiredly.

Riley chuckled. "Can't you just move over, please?"

"No, if you want it, take it, Riley."

"Maybe I will," Riley cautioned.

"Good," Emma replied dismissively, fully knowing Riley wouldn't follow through, but secretly hoping he would.

Riley stood still, battling in his mind whether or not to reclaim his side of the bed. On the one hand, he could submit and sleep on the door-side of the bed, but then he would be showing Emma that he wasn't assertive; however, on the other hand, he could assert himself and move her off of his side of the bed, but then he risked the situation going one of multiple ways that he wasn't prepared mentally to deal with.

"You have three seconds to decide, Poole, before I am going to sleep," Emma warned.

"That's it, you're moving over," Riley decided.

He pulled the blankets from off her body as she protested. "Riley!" Emma laughed, squirming as his cold hands grabbed her side and tried to roll her to the other side of the bed. Emma fought back and grabbed the bed frame above her head to prevent herself from being moved.

"You're like an impossible child!" Riley growled playfully, seizing her hands with his and trying to pry them from the frame. He kept his concentration on the task at hand, knowing that if his concentration broke for a split second, he'd notice how his body was inches from hers. He could already feel the body heat radiating off of her and smell the faintest hint of floral lotion on her.

"Riley!" she yelped when she began to feel her fingers slip from the frame. She should've never put on lotion before coming over. "Wait! I'll let go under one condition."

Riley's fingers stopped applying pressure to hers and he froze, waiting for her to continue. "What? At this point, I'll do practically anything to just go to sleep."

"First, I want you to walk with me to work in the morning."

He groaned, not wanting to wake up that early. "Ugh fine. Now move."

"Wait, I'm not done."

"What more could you possibly want?"

"Walk me home too," Emma added with a grin, knowing he would give in.

He rolled his eyes. "Fine, now can you move?"

She laughed fondly and released her death-grip on the bed. "Riley?"

"What?" he groaned tiredly.

"You're on top of me," Emma smirked. "I can't move over with your body on top of mine."

Riley's eyes widened and he blushed madly, thankful that she wouldn't be able to see that in the dark of the room. "S-sorry," he stuttered, jerking upwards to allow her to move. He hadn't realized he was that close to her.

"Thank you, Riley," she responded sweetly, rolling to the other side of the bed and pulling the blankets up around her shoulders. "Good night."

Riley climbed into the bed and pulled the covers over his body. "Good night," he replied, collapsing onto the pillow, praying sleep would come quickly, but knowing it never would. Not tonight. Not when his pillow and the covers around him smelled like her. Not when he could hear her slowing breathing and feel the mattress shift ever so slightly when she moved in her sleep.

_Damn it._ He knew she was going to be the death of him.


End file.
